


host

by punkarus



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz, Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz (Two River Cast) Actor RPF
Genre: Angst, Bisexual Jeremy Heere, Depressed Jeremy Heere, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Jeremy Heere's Squip Takes Control of Jeremy Heere, M/M, Not a lot of dialogue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-12 03:17:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20140726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punkarus/pseuds/punkarus
Summary: a touch starved boy has a parasite





	host

**Author's Note:**

> i really dont know where i went with this

The distant ticking of a clock was enough to make Jeremy drive his hands into his hair with frustration, idly tugging at the strawberry brown curls with not much emotion. It was normal, it was routine. Not even the loudest music could drown out the sound of the clock ticking. Over, over, over, and over again. An infinite loop of that god-awful, sanity breaking sound. The muted colors of his bedroom only fed into this frustration, most things feeling far away and faded; exactly the same as an old, worn down photograph. The sad navy blue covered his walls, old papers and tickets to old shows overlapping each other. Posters torn down, remains left to wither away in the full trash can sitting next to his desk, which felt like miles and miles away. To put it short, everything was muted. Muted, dull, and dark. It had been like that for a few days, ever since the circuit shaped lines formed along his arms, climbing up his neck and leaving a tingling feeling wherever they went. It made him feel like static. And the clock, hung high on his wall, was still ticking.  
"Jeremy." A sharp voice cut through his fuzzy mind, the prickly feeling in his jaw coming to an abrupt stop. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, just to make sure that it was actually over. A pale hand reached up to touch his jaw, reality slowly sinking through his skin and settling into his bones. He was living. Breathing. A weak laugh slipped past his lips as he came to the realization that he was in his own body, unable to stop the tears poking and pressing at his eyes, barely threatening to fall. His skin crawled for any sort of contact, but it was obvious it wouldn't come any time soon.

"Jeremy, I'm talking to you." The voice hissed out into his ear, the words echoing in his head. Exactly like the clock. The ticking. It made him grab at his skin and shake his head, as if he could shake the voice out of his mind. It wasn't real. It couldn't be. Distant clicking came from the bathroom sink. It was loud enough for even him to hear, despite the fact he was rooms away. Was his dad home? It couldn't be. He was out on a business trip, and wouldn't be back until tomorrow. Had someone broken in, just to turn on the sink? To make clocks louder? To make him feel like he was drinking red hot lava? Drinking. Drink. The word made his throat feel parched. Neglecting to get out of bed, even if it were for water. Food. Bathroom breaks. Invisible chains and shackles keeping him bound to the now rock solid bed. Blankets were burning his skin, yet the air was cold enough to give him frostbite. Was this purgatory?

"Jeremiah Heere. Do you speak English? Are you even alive?" The words made him cackle. He couldn't help it. He couldn't answer a question he simply didn't know the answer to. He was living. A living, breathing human who hadn't had any contact over the past week. A human who let his phone die, and throwing it away like it was an old paper he didn't need anymore. A human who has a parasite living inside of his brain, yelling at his every single move. He had grown weak and weary, eyes falling shut at every chance they had. Before the process repeated over and over again; he could rest.

Dream Jeremy didn't have issues. Dream Jeremy wasn't panicked over every single thing. Dream Jeremy didn't have a parasite in his head, bossing him around all the time. No, no, dream Jeremy was better than real Jeremy. Real Jeremy who, even though he didn't want to be, was his own parasite.

Circuits started to crawl under his skin, leaving a light trail of dark blue wherever they went. The itching was nonstop, chills sending down his spine, causing the hairs on his neck to rise. The feeling made him sick to his stomach, even though he felt it nearly all the time. He grabbed at the bed sheets to keep himself steady, the world swaying under his legs, bile rising in his throat as the itching and burning swelled within him. Spots started to freckle his vision, the ticking, clicking, and purring fading from his ears as he fell back, head knocking against the back of the wall. His fingers twitched with resistance, making a dull attempt to grab for his charger, even though it was obvious he wouldn't get it in time.

And the world faded to a dark black.


End file.
